


On Our Way

by Bad Samaritan (quodpersortem)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, Established Relationship, Fallen Castiel, Fuckbuddies, Impala Sex, Implied D/s, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in the Impala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-01
Packaged: 2017-12-22 03:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/908244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/Bad%20Samaritan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas is bored out of his mind. He’s still not used to the hours it takes to get from one place to the next, instead of being able to fly there. Regardless of how much Dean seems to enjoy driving, he pertinently does not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Our Way

Cas is bored out of his mind.

He’s still not used to the hours it takes to get from one place to the next, and regardless of how much Dean and Sam seem to enjoy driving, he does not.

It is warm in the car, he can’t stretch his legs, his back starts to hurt when he sits in the same place for long stretches of time and he really wants to breathe some fresh air—preferably as soon as possible, and not the loud wind that comes into the car when he or Dean open a window. At least they are closed right now.

Besides that, he has found he cannot possibly read because it will make him feel nauseous, no matter what he tries. Dean says that’s normal, that a lot of humans suffer from that, but it doesn’t make the wait any easier on Cas.

None of that is the worst, though.

The worst is that Dean won’t allow him to speak because of the music he is listening to. Or because he is driving too fast for the speed limit, and he does not want to be distracted by Cas and cause an accident. Or, like right now, because it is quiet on the road and Dean wants to enjoy the hum of the Impala’s motor. 

Outside, the sun is about to set. The sky is turning a little darker, and although the sun isn’t quite dropping behind the horizon yet, the first orange hues are tainting their surroundings.

Cas sighs as he leans back in his seat, wishing that at least Sam was in the car with them to strike up conversation with. Then he looks over at Dean, looking almost ethereal in the afternoon light, and thinks better of it. At least this way, he can touch his fingers to the back of Dean’s neck without getting an eye roll from Sam.

Of course, Cas has never had much self-control when it comes to Dean, so it’s easy to go from there to touching Dean’s arm, and then his thigh, and that does seem to draw his attention because Dean’s breathing has grown slightly hitchy. In particular, when Cas squeezes the worn denim and firm muscle on the inside of Dean’s thigh, or rakes his nails along the seam.

He wonders how long Dean will keep quiet; how long it’ll take before he pulls over to an abandoned road or parking lot to have Cas suck him off. It can’t be long, Cas thinks, Dean’s hardening in his jeans and so is Cas.  
Dean surprises him with his answer. “Not now, Cas.”

Cas feels affronted, a little upset and definitely aroused by the hoarse tone of Dean’s voice, the way his pupils, regardless of his answer, are lust-blown. The refusal is definitely at odds with Dean’s character, but because Cas does not wish to overstep Dean’s strange boundaries, he keeps his hands to himself.

He palms himself through his jeans, closing his eyes and pretending he’s in their bedroom at the bunker. Cas doesn’t bother staying quiet—he wants Dean’s attention, after all. 

He spreads his legs and presses his free hands against his balls, keeping his other hand on his erection, and he arches up in his seat, the seatbelt straining against his chest. It takes a push of a button and then he’s freed of that, at least.

He wants to look at Dean, see the flush on his cheeks, but Cas restrains himself and instead teases his hands up and down his thighs. It isn’t often that he does this to himself; most often, Dean is there to help him. It’s been Dean from the start.

Yet, it’s different than when he’s alone because now he knows Dean is watching, and it arouses him impossibly. It’s also different because they are currently in the Impala, Dean’s most prized possession, and Castiel is about to defile it without Dean’s explicit permission.

He moans aloud, before returning to rub his erection through his jeans. The dulled feeling on his cock and the slight scrape of fabric are urging him towards the edge, so he makes sure to keep his movements slow and mostly teasing, just enough to get more aroused but not enough to come. 

Cas can Dean’s breathing coming in gasps, and he seems to be having trouble focusing on the road, so he says, “I thought you were too busy driving, Dean?” His voice comes out rough, like it does when he is having sex, and it is a little surprising to Cas himself because he thought this happened only when he was with Dean. Apparently not so, then. 

He doesn’t wait for an answer and instead slips a hand up under his shirt, touching the hot and smooth skin, shivering as he scratches his nail over his chest, across his nipples and a light dusting of hair. Cas’ breath hitches and his hips buck up again, this time involuntarily, and he sags down in his seat a bit so there is more room at his crotch.

“Dean,” he groans, and the car swerves a little on the road. Cas had never thought that getting Dean to almost crash his car would be such a turn on, but apparently it is.

“Stop it,” Dean grits his teeth, and when Cas looks over at him, he sees that Dean’s fists are white on the steering wheel and his entire body is tense. His jeans are quite obviously bulging at the crotch and Cas grins as he says, “No.”

He takes his time unzipping his pants, and then eases out his cock. Cas looks around for a moment, but they’re almost alone on the road, most other commuters probably eating dinner either at home or at a roadside restaurant.

Dean’s hardly paying attention to the highway anymore, and Cas simply closes his fist around his cock. The first stroke, as always, feels best—his hand is too dry to be comfortable but the sweet rush of arousal that floods his body is such enormous relief. His skin is throbbing under his fingers and he thumbs the tip, smearing the small drop of precome beaded there. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to stop,” he asks Dean, a little breathy as he keeps on stroking himself, slowly, certainly.

“Very,” Dean is still gnashing his teeth together and Cas raises his eyebrows, because even though he can’t read minds anymore, he does know that Dean wants to stop. It’s just his stubborn nature that won’t let him.  
Cas hooks the band of his underwear under his balls and toys with them with his fingers, light caresses to the sensitive skin, closing his eyes and relaxing as he jerks off. The car doesn’t sway sideways anymore, and he can only guess that Dean is focusing on the road again, and it’s not to Cas’ pleasure at all.

He hitches his hips up and slips his pants and underwear down at once, his cock leaking precome into the shirt he’s wearing and when he sits down, the leather is sticky against his ass. It’s not pleasant, but it’s not unpleasant either. 

When he starts to jerk off again, he moves his fist faster so he’s quickly building up to an orgasm—and at the same time he tugs at his balls to stave it off a little longer. Cas keeps a keen eye on Dean, who is growing more and more flustered and, at one point, pushes his hand between his legs and groans. Cas moans along with it, his own cock jerking in his hand.

Finally an exit comes up, and this Dean takes it—although Cas keeps going throughout it, because he’s about to come, he’s about to come to the idea that he’s just made Dean completely crazy, and then the car screeches to a halt.

Dean’s hands find their way to Cas right away, stroking his thighs before knocking away his own hand, taking over the strokes. It’s not as perfect as Cas’ own grip, but the simple idea that this is Dean’s hand on him makes Cas feel light headed. It’s still special.

Dean’s kissing him, sucking at his lips and then his tongue, and Cas can’t stand it anymore, moaning and writhing in the seat, falling apart under Dean’s hand and trembling in an effort to keep everything together. He’s got his own fingers closed tightly around the base of his dick while Dean’s trying to get him off, and it’s so difficult not to let go, not to-

And then he does let go, because Dean moans as well and he is not even receiving any physical stimulation. Cas starts muttering, mumbling, he starts pushing his hips up into Dean’s fist and the moment he relaxes his fingers, the moment he allows himself to let go, his body picks up on it and he comes, shooting in high arched strings across his shirt. Dean gently jerks him through it, through the shocks that still wreck his body, and then it’s quiet around Cas.

It takes ages before Cas catches his breath again, and when he does, it’s to see Dean staring at him.

“Holy shit,” is all Dean says for long seconds, then followed with, “that really turn you on, huh?”

Cas smiles and kisses Dean, petting the bulge in his jeans before wriggling around to pull up his jeans. He doesn’t even bother to try to wipe his shirt clean, the come on it already drying into cracking white patches. “Yes,” he confesses, “yes, it did. Now, can we get a room somewhere?”

And he can see that Dean would like to protest now, that he’d love to stay in this spot for hours, to fuck each other senseless in the backseat, but when Cas raises his eyebrows as if begging for an answer, Dean nods and says, “Yeah, sure. Don’t complain if it’s a shithole though, it’s gonna be the first place we see.”

“As long as the sheets are clean,” Cas tells him, before closing his eyes and easing back into the seat. He might as well try to catch up on some sleep; tonight is going to be a long one.


End file.
